


Agnus Diaboli

by IohannaFacTotum



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe- Dark, Alternate Universe- Witches, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gen, Horror, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Plot, Slow Build, Suspense, Witchcraft, Witches, pilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2569148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IohannaFacTotum/pseuds/IohannaFacTotum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1692, Massachusetts - Erwin Smith, a young, talented lawyer from New York, is called to Salem to investigate charges of witchcraft. Everything he thinks he knows is thrown into question when he discovers that something more sinister is tormenting Salem Village.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salem (Pilot)

**Author's Note:**

> I could make all kinds of excuses for what has turned into an absolute mess of an AU I never intended to write, but long story short, I saw [this lovely fanart](http://kisu-no-hi.tumblr.com/post/83962640636/eruri-salem-massachusetts-witch-trials-circa-1690s), was inspired to write a drabble, thought to myself about eight billion times "yeah, but what if?". This is the "what if." And I'm really not sorry at all. 
> 
> Special thanks to rainbowdowneyjr, sokoace and ichthyarmada (tumblrs) for beta reading. Blessed be, you enlongated elephant fart noises. <3

The steady rattle of wooden wheels on coarse, rocky trail had become all too familiar over the past few days. Even the occasional bumping and rocking and jostling over the odd tree root had become something of a comfort to Erwin during his hours spent in the stagecoach, reminding him that, despite the seemingly never-ending forest, they were indeed covering ground.

The repetition was almost soothing in an uneasy sort of way, and it somehow brought to Erwin’s mind the Land of the Lotus Eaters, the way the scenery rolled past the windows hour after hour, day after day, calm and hardly changing. It made him lethargic but anxious, though he attributed some of that to his current inhibitions on leaving bustling New York for Salem Village, Massachusetts. He knew little about the current happenings in the town besides what he had been told and he thought even that much to be ridiculous, but looking out through the trees into the waning summer and approaching autumn, he caught himself thinking that it would be easy for a more impressionable mind to believe that if witches existed anywhere in the natural world it would be here, amidst the dying flora and creeping ivy.

Eventually signs of settlement began to appear – the occasional farm or small outlying home – and Erwin found himself strangely fond of the rural setting, or rather less inclined to hate it than he expected. All the same, fearing that a borderline hysteria amongst the townspeople awaited him made him long for his hometown, even if it did mean another five days by coach.

But he couldn’t abandon Mike to it.

The letter he had received only a week before seemed to burn a hole where it sat in his breast pocket as Erwin recalled Mike’s description of the happenings plaguing the town and his plea for Erwin’s intervention. _If there is one man who can reason with the unreasonable,_ Mike had written amidst his anecdotes of fits and faintings and arrests, _it is Erwin Smith_. It was a mystery to him why Mike would have called him here from New York – there were surely other more practiced and equally capable lawyers closer to the town, or perhaps a more sensible doctor was needed in order to find a cause for the fits and sickness besides _witchcraft_ of all things.

However, Mike had asked, desperately so, and so he was here, watching a number of houses and finally people pass until the coach pulled to a creaking stop.

Erwin was sure that Salem didn’t get outside visitors often, if the looks on the faces of passersby were anything to go by. Curious and concerned and sometimes even suspicious, they passed him in modest, shapeless black and white clothes and watched him from the corners of their eyes.

He had little time to dwell on his disdain at this welcome, however. No sooner had he removed his luggage from the coach and watched as it rode off the same way it came that he heard heavy footsteps approach. He turned and found himself eye level with a sandy blond beard lining a broad jawline.

Erwin smiled and stepped back to better see the man’s whole face, recognizing the deep-set eyes, thin lips, and long, hooked nose with fondness. “Excuse me, sir,” he said at last with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I’m looking for Mike Zacharias. He’s a big fellow – could very well be mistaken for a tree, though I dare say he speaks less.”

The man looked around for a moment, keeping his gaze just over the top of Erwin’s head. “What was that? I thought I might have heard something,” he mumbled to himself, though just loudly enough that Erwin could hear, before looking down and returning the smile smugly. “Welcome to Salem, Erwin. How have you been?” he asked, taking one of the small trunks of luggage from his friend with considerable ease.

“I’d be better if you would cease your incessant growing. On my life, you’re taller every time I see you, you old devil.”

“Keep your voice down, speaking like that. There are some here who would take such words seriously,” Mike said, though he made it quite apparent through a stern and weathered look that he was only half-joking.

Erwin cast his gaze away and about the town, surveying the people again with notable concern. “Right… You’ll have to give me the full details when we reach the inn,” he started, though Mike cut him off with a chuckle.

“Inn?” he quipped. “No proper inn in Salem, and all the better for you.” The resulting look on his friend’s face resulted in a low, deep laugh as he loaded the trunk onto the back of a small, waiting carriage alongside some small bales of hay, firewood, and a few bunches of various vegetables. Erwin followed suit with the other trunk and joined Mike at the front of the carriage, drawn by two healthy but aging horses.

“There is a small empty house on my property,” Mike explained. “My neighbor, a good friend, died a year ago. I bought his land and have been keeping it up.” For all the questions that Erwin wanted to ask, he tried not to prod his friend. It was rare for him to talk so much, but Erwin was glad of it, having not heard Mike’s voice in too many years. Letter correspondence had been their only form of communication since Erwin moved to New York to attend the law school there. Although even their letters grew scarce as the years passed, he had thought of Mike often, and worried about him, and seeing him now and hearing that deep voice of his was nothing short of nostalgic, despite the circumstances that had brought it about.

“So I am to live in a dead man’s home,” Erwin finally murmured to himself as they slid into the front bench of the creaking wooden apparatus, already so weighed down that the boards groaned in protest when Erwin shifted.

“I doubt he minds. Not like he’s using it,” Mike replied gruffly, and that was the last time he spoke of his own volition for the rest of the ride.

Although he was weary of riding after five days by stagecoach, Erwin was content to do so quietly without the walls of said stagecoach around him. Evening was creeping upon Salem, and the trees beyond the fields turned to black silhouettes in front of the setting sun, which streaked the sky in brilliant pinks and blues and yellows. In between thin clouds, Erwin could see stars winking through the approaching night. A silence fell on them with the pseudo-darkness, broken only by crickets and the soft rustling and clomping of hooves against the trail.

The darkness of night was so nearly complete that Erwin would have thought that he imagined seeing a small house, partially obscured by trees, though the light of a little lantern left out that shone across the small field told him it was real enough. Between the distance and quickly fading light, he couldn’t make out much except for a small, dark form in the lawn.

“Who lives there?” he finally ventured to ask, never taking his eyes from the figure and its small home.

“I’m not certain. But he isn’t friendly.” Mike’s voice was somewhat hushed and Erwin thought it sounded a little foreboding. “He avoids people in town, and they avoid him, and I advise you do the same.”

Erwin made a note of Mike’s words to himself, but he kept his eyes as focused as possible on the figure, outlined by the lantern light. And although he dismissed it as silly, Erwin thought he could feel the figure’s eyes on him as well.

***

The house was remarkably small, even in comparison to the others in the town, and the only building Erwin had seen that was smaller was the small two-horse stable behind it. It was a two-room affair, including a bedroom furnished with a bed, washstand, small wardrobe and a writing desk. The larger room held little more than a small table, two chairs, and a brick fireplace in the wall. It seemed that Mike had made no effort to remove anything from the house – a broom stood in the corner and beaten pots and pans sat on the shelves and a crudely made wooden cross hung prominently on one wall, but the oddest thing that Erwin noticed upon entering the home was that bundles of dead herbs hung from every doorway and in every window, and one was even placed by a crack in the wall.

Between the two of them, it only took Mike and Erwin a few moments to move the luggage into the bedroom, and Mike was kind enough to supply Erwin with some of the firewood from the back of his carriage.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to tell you everything in full. Should you need me,” Mike said as he stood in the doorway to leave, “my home is just over that hill there. Less than a mile.” He pointed to a small four-paned window on the otherwise empty wall, through which Erwin could see the crest of a shallow grassy knoll.

“God forbid I should need you in the middle of the night,” Erwin said with a lighthearted chuckle, though there was no sign of amusement on Mike’s face. The smile faded quickly from Erwin’s face.

“Yes. God forbid. Good night,” he said as he pulled the door closed behind him, leaving Erwin baffled and unsettled, though he shook off the uneasy feeling as best he could and set about unpacking and making the dead man’s house more home-like.

The longer he was left alone in the little house, the more Erwin found he didn’t hate it, but he far from favored it. The kitchenware and shelves were coated in such a spectacular layer of dust and cobwebs that no manner of dusting and washing could return them to their normal color. Rat excrement and dead spiders and beetles crowded the corners and it took more than a little effort to sweep them out, and as he did so he found that the floorboards were warped and uneven, though he was pleasantly surprised to find that only three that he crossed frequently creaked. Unfortunately, they happened to be at the door between the bedroom and the main room, and at the foot of his bed.

Frustrated with cleaning and with a sense of finality, he took the herb bundles from their places in the doors and windows. Before he threw them out, he examined them curiously, trying to identify the plants. He recognized angelica, basil, and cloves, though there were a few he had never seen in his life.

On a better day, he may have been curious enough to keep them, but he was tired and worn and outdone and tossed them out the door before locking it and returning to the bedroom, where he sat at the desk to review Mike’s letter more closely and perhaps write down some of the things he had noticed today, if he felt so inclined, regardless of the fact that his eyes were already so heavy.

The light from the lamp flickered, casting odd, dark shadows on the wall and sending them creeping on the floor, and Erwin found himself distracted from his writing, imagining shapes in the wavering light. He even thought he could make out shadows and shapes creeping around in the darkness just beyond the window.


	2. Occam's Razor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all evidence to the contrary, Erwin is determined to logically explain a nighttime attack.

Heavy, hard pounding on the door startled Erwin awake, and he sat bolt upright in the darkness, still clothed and at his desk. The lamp had long burned itself out and the only light crept in through the window from a thin sliver of moon.

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

He jumped to his feet, disoriented, and the feeling of pins and needles immediately overwhelmed one leg from the knee down. He cursed under his breath and hobbled across the bedroom and into the main room as quickly as he could manage. Somewhere along the way, he noted he stubbed his blissfully ignorant, sleeping toe on a trunk or a table leg or something, and dreaded the thought of feeling it later.

_Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!_

“I’m coming!” Erwin barked as he made his way to the door, finally swinging it open to be greeted with bright lamplight and Mike, the top of his head just higher than the doorjamb, a very stern and serious look on his face.

“I thought you said I might need _you_ in the middle of the night,” Erwin grumbled after a brief pause. “What’s the matter?”

Wordlessly, Mike motioned for Erwin to follow him and turned. Outside were three horses, two of which had pulled Mike’s cart earlier. Atop the third sat a young woman, or perhaps a femininely built young man. In the dark, it was hard to tell anything besides the fact that they wore men’s clothes, though even with the lack of light, Erwin could see bright eyes peeking from beneath their fair, wavy hair.

Mike climbed onto one of the horses and Erwin slipped on his boots and followed suit, though before he could ask the identity of Mike’s companion, they reached out with a hand and a small smile. Although amiable, Erwin could tell that they were nervous.

“Nanaba,” they said softly. “I take it you’re the lawyer Mike has spoken of.”

Erwin reached out and shook the small hand. “That’s right. Erwin Smith. It’s a pleasure, mis…” he allowed the word to trail off, hoping his acquaintance might correct him, but was only met with a soft shake of the head.

“Just Nanaba, if you please.”

Erwin gave a curt nod of understanding. He thought it best not to further pursue the issue, deciding it wasn’t his business.

Mike rode his horse in the direction of the town center, and Erwin and Nanaba followed closely behind. Erwin caught himself glimpsing between the two, his mind plagued with questions. Mike had never been very sociable, and was hard pressed to make close friends, and Erwin caught himself wondering how the two knew each other and, even more curiously, what they were doing here in the middle of the night.

“My father and I lived in the house you are staying in,” Nanaba said with a sidelong glance at him. Their soft voice barely broke over the sound of hooves galloping along the rocky ground. “Since Father’s passing, I’ve stayed with Mike.” When they met Erwin’s eyes, they seemed to notice the shocked look in them and laughed. It was a pleasant laugh, light and musical in nature. “I thought you might be wondering.”

“I was,” Erwin replied, though he was too tired to laugh. “But it’s not the only thing.”

“A child has experienced an attack,” Mike answered gruffly, pulling the reins lightly to bring the horse to a trot as they entered the more populated area of town. “I thought you might want to investigate, seeing as that is what you’re here for.”

Riding up to match Mike’s pace, Erwin turned to look at him. “By ‘an attack’ you mean one of the fits you described to me in your letter?”

Mike nodded.

They rode in silence, Erwin lost in his thoughts but giving voice to no more questions as they rode through the town and finally out of it again until the shadows of trees began to block out the fading moonlight.

They stopped outside of a wooden home, windows aglow with light from burning lanterns. Voices could be heard from inside as the three tied their horses to a post near the door and Mike knocked. Within seconds, the door swung open and a short, stoutly man looked at them, utter panic on his face until his eyes landed on Nanaba, at which point he seemed relieved. He ushered them in.

“The fit has ended,” he spoke in a booming voice as he led them through the house quickly, his face still red and his breathing quick, “but this one lasted longer than the first, and was much more violent.” Erwin could hear the fear and panic in his voice still. “You have my sincerest apologies for my calling so late. ”

Mike nodded as they followed. “Mr. Braus, this is Erwin Smith. He is a good friend of mine and a lawyer, come to investigate these fits at my request.”

Erwin turned to him. “I was told I would be investigating and taking part in the trials of the accused.”

“And are these attacks not a part of those trials?” Nanaba asked without turning to him. Their voice shook slightly and Erwin could see their jaw tightening with grinding teeth. They appeared to be getting more and more nervous. “Is investigating the cause of these fits not imperative to proving the innocence or guilt of the accused?”

“Innocence, yes.” As they continued down the hallway, Erwin looked between Mike and Nanaba suspiciously. “The idea of someone being guilty of witchcraft is preposterous. It’s entirely make-believe, and I’m sure that we’ll find a perfectly natural cause to all of this.”

Mike snorted quietly. “I’m afraid you may believe differently after tonight.”

Perhaps he imagined it, but Erwin thought he saw Nanaba grimace.

At last they were led into a bedroom where a young girl – Erwin guessed no older than twelve – sat in bed, pale and shaking with her arms around her knees. The man, her father, took a seat at the edge of the bed and began to pet her hair gently.

Nanaba began to look around the room, closely observing the walls, floor and ceiling. Erwin followed them with his eyes, only then noticing deep scratches at the base of the door. After a moment, Nanaba walked briskly to Mike, grabbed his hand, and led him out into the hallway, firmly closing the door behind him.

With slow, deliberate steps, Erwin approached the bed. He could hear muffled voices from the hallway, hushed but nervous and even angry tones, though he couldn’t make out their words through the thick wood. He looked at the girl and then to Braus. “May I speak to her?” he asked.

“You may try, but Sasha would not speak of the attack last time,” he said sadly.

“How many times has this happened?”

“Twice, here, though there have been five or six attacks throughout Salem otherwise.”

Before Erwin could question him further, Nanaba came back into the room, leaving Mike in the hallway where he gestured to Erwin and Braus. The two men followed him out into the hall, though not before Nanaba grabbed Braus’s sleeve.

“Would you bring some bread or something for her to drink? It may make her feel better.” Braus nodded and shuffled to the front of the house. Erwin looked at Mike questioningly, expecting some kind of explanation.

“Nanaba believes Sasha may feel more comfortable if it’s just the two of them,” Mike said, though he offered no answer besides that. It left the lawyer with more questions than answers, though he decided it would be fruitless to ask now. Braus passed them again with a small chunk of bread, handing it to Nanaba through the door. After the bread passed hands, the door closed again, leaving the three men in an anxious silence before it creaked open again.

“It may take a few moments,” Nanaba said firmly. With a tilt of his head, Erwin noticed something in their hand – a small leather pouch, it looked like. “Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll fetch you when she’s able to speak.”

Braus lead the men into the main room and they seated themselves around a wooden table.

“I think it’s time you told me more about what’s going on,” Erwin said quietly, his eyes pinned accusingly on Mike. “Your letter was decidedly cryptic.”

“For several weeks now,” Mike began slowly, pensively as he drummed his fingers on the table, “the children of the village have been suffering strange symptoms. Some of them have fits in the night, like Sasha. Some of them wake, screaming of people standing at their bedside, sometimes causing physical harm.”

“Could it not be some manner of sickness?” Erwin asked, skeptical.

Braus shook his head. “Some have named the spirits standing at their bed.”

“You say spirits,” Erwin replied with a level voice, “but I hear ergot poisoning or fever.”

“Did you not see them?” Mike stared intensely at Erwin. “The scratches on the girl’s door? Ergot and fever may cause fits and hallucinations, but they do not claw up hard wood.”

Lips pursed, Erwin looked at Mike, then at the table, and finally shifted his gaze to Braus again. “Why don’t you tell me, in precise detail, what transpired before we arrived?”

Braus nodded and took a deep breath. He puffed out his cheeks and let it out slowly before continuing. “We were all asleep – my wife and I in our bedroom and Sasha in her own – when we were woken by a horrible scream.”

“Where is your wife now?”

“Outside,” he replied. “Tending to the hounds and horses.”

Erwin nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

“Fearing it was my daughter shrieking so horridly, I leapt up and rushed to her room, where she lay still.”

“Was her door ajar?”

“Yes, Mr. Smith, it was,” Braus answered firmly. It was clear that the interruptions were further agitating him, so Erwin simply nodded again and remained silent. “I, thinking she was sleeping, returned to my room. Moments later, I heard a door slam and so I rose again and returned to find the door closed and the knob unmoving. I heard scratching and screaming so I knocked and pounded, and at last the door gave way and I stumbled in.”

“I noticed that the lock was broken –”

“Erwin,” Mike interjected, catching his friend’s attention and reminding him to remain silent a while longer.

“Sasha lay still, but she spoke,” Braus continued. “’Father,’ she said, ‘it’s on my chest.’ I saw nothing on her, but she cried and insisted. ‘It’s on my chest, I can’t move.’ I sent my wife to fetch Mr. Zacharius and Nanaba, she being the faster rider, and when I returned Sasha was writhing and crying in her bed as if in pain until she jerked as if something had struck her on the face and fell to the floor.” He paused and ran his hands over his tired face and rubbed his temples, displacing deep wrinkles and sagging skin. “I helped her back onto the bed. Though she seemed to be in control of herself, she was deathly pale and cold to the touch, and she wept and coughed. I sat with her until my wife and the three of you arrived.”

“Your wife did not ride back with us,” Erwin started in a doubtful voice, but Mike was quick to shut him down.

“She rode ahead. Nanaba and I came to fetch you, thinking it best you saw this.”

“Why did you send for them rather than a doctor?”

“The doctor here has proven useless in these fits,” Braus replied in a defeated voice. “He comes and simply diagnoses bewitchment, then questions the children, to which they usually will not answer, though he has gotten three names from them thus far.”

"What could Mike and Nanaba do for you that a doctor could not?" Erwin asked again. Silence answered him as Braus stared back, as though he was unsure of how to answer, or afraid to. “Mr. Braus,” he said after a moment of thought, “I think this has all been a misunderstanding.”

Mike and Braus looked at Erwin, confused and skeptical of the claim.

“Hear me,” he said slowly. “You and your wife wake to shrill screaming. Could it not have been cats fighting? Owls, foxes? Any manner of animal in the night?”

“I suppose –”

“So this screaming wakes you, and you check on your daughter, who may have been woken by the screaming as well. In her half asleep state, Sasha sees you and does not recognize you. When you leave, she hurries to slam and lock the door and returns to bed and back to sleep.” He paused for a moment to see if they might interrupt, but the men were silent.

“Hearing the door slam, you come to pound on it. Sasha, having been reawaken by this, finds she cannot move because she is suffering sleep paralysis, though she fears it is the ‘spirit’ she saw earlier,” he gestured to Braus.

“And her writhing?” Mike inquired.

“Upon finding herself able to move again, it could have been any manner of stretching or, yes, even writhing to relieve soreness. She cried out of fear, was pale and cold out of fear, and simply fell off the bed.”

“The scratches –”

“Were likely caused by one of the hounds your wife went to tend to while Sasha’s door stood open.”

“Erwin,” Mike said in his low, deep voice, “that is entirely too circumstantial.”

“Indeed, it is,” Erwin agreed readily, “In fact, it’s ridiculous. But I am far more inclined to believe these things to be coincidental than the workings of witches and magic.” He said the words as if they were insulting, with his nose drawn up in simultaneous disgust and amusement. “How am I to defend the people of this town when the label of witchcraft is thrown on any and all unexplainable circumstances and all refuse to search for reasonable explanations?” he seemed to be getting more agitated as he spoke, and Mike narrowed his eyes. He and Braus both began to talk over each other.

“Perhaps you should approach it from the other direction, Mr. Smith,” Nanaba said, coming from the hallway with Sasha tailing behind them, bringing the arguing to an immediate halt. “If the people of Salem cannot see the ‘reason’ you so cherish, then try to see the ‘magic’ that they so fear.”

Erwin noticed Mike and Nanaba exchange a meaningful glance as Sasha emerged from behind the latter, color returning to her face as she nibbled at the bread she clung to. Nanaba turned their gaze back to the lawyer, who met the intense, fair eyes with a steady stare. “If that proves to be the only effective course of action,” he said lowly, “then so be it.”


	3. Angelica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin finds himself with more questions than answers after his first meeting with his enigmatic neighbor and the local eccentric.

The following morning was a hard one, and Erwin found it even more difficult to remove himself from the blankets. The changing seasons had begun to have an effect on the morning weather. A slight chill lingered inside the house, slowly receding into the cracks between the walls and the joints of Erwin’s body as the sun threatened to peek over the trees in the west of the town, leaving stripes of pink and gold streaking the still dark sky. Hesitantly, he stretched his limbs and slithered from beneath the quilts. The cold wood of the floor greeted his bare feet as he shuffled to the small wardrobe, his eyelids still heavy with sleep.

The night before had proved terribly long and fruitless, and questioning Sasha had only reinforced her father’s words. She recounted little, and would not speak of the causation, or of anything she had seen, as if something held her tongue. Even with Nanaba’s gentle prompting, Sasha seemed unable to articulate her torment.

With the failure of the previous night hanging heavy over his shoulders, Erwin considered lying in bed for another hour or so as he slipped into his shirt, breeches, and one stocking - unable to find the other in his drowsiness - and slid his boots up to his knee, but decided it best to stay awake.

As he reached for his coat, still drowsy and thoughtless, Mike took it upon himself to open the door. Erwin yelled in surprise.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good.”

“Yes, I thought it best to start my investigation early today,” Erwin replied with a sigh.

“No tea or breakfast?”

Erwin half-smiled. “I haven’t had the opportunity to stock the kitchen. And besides, I haven’t an affinity for cooking.”

“I thought as much,” Mike grumbled. “How you survive on your own in New York is beyond me. It’s your lucky day, though,” he added, tossing something Erwin’s way. Erwin reached up and caught the object as if it were second nature.

“Nanaba likes them, so I have a tree of them.”

“If I didn’t know better,” Erwin laughed, turning the fresh peach over in his hand, “I would say you have a softness for Nanaba.”

Mike’s only reply was a thin smile, undetectable beneath his mustache except for the way it made his eyes squint. “Come with me,” he said, leading Erwin out as he bit into the fruit. “There are a few people you need to meet if you’re going to be staying for a while yet.

The air was still crisp, but the chill began to lift with the night as Erwin and Mike rode into the sleeping town at a leisurely pace very unlike their ride the night before.

“Have you ever thought that Nanaba has a fondness for peaches because the skin is reminiscent of your facial hair?” Erwin mused as he finished the fruit in his hand and discarded the pit.

Mike smiled again and replied in a low voice, “Yes, they have made the connection.”

Erwin’s eyebrows raised. “Oh.”

Before he could articulate some quip about the indecency of the implications, Mike led him to one of the most centrally located and spacious buildings in the community.

Just as Mike was about to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal a lanky, dark-haired man in a long black coat. He jumped at the sight of the two outside, then sighed. “Good morning, Mr. Zacharias,” he said in a tired voice.

“Good morning, Your Honor,” Mike replied.

Before anyone took the chance to introduce him, Erwin seized the initiative and held out his hand. “Erwin Smith,” he said, though before he could continue, the man interrupted him.

“Yes, I’ve heard much about you already.” He reached and briefly shook Erwin’s hand. “You have my town in something of a stir. I’m Nile Dawk, magistrate of Salem.”

“A stir?” Erwin questioned.

Dawk gave a curt nod. “Some seem excited about your arrival, but many seem to be under the impression that you are in league with the devil, here to free his witches.” Erwin thought he might be joking, but he showed no signs of humor.

“I can assure you, I am in league with no one but the law,” Erwin replied with a soft laugh.

“In the case of something as sensitive as witchcraft, Mr. Smith,” Dawk said, tone foreboding, “I’m afraid the law as it exists in New York has little to offer. You are either with this court or against it.” A brief and heavy silence passed between them. “My sincerest apologies,” he continued after a moment, “but I have business to attend to. I hope to spend more time in your company in the future.” He nodded first at Erwin, and then at Mike. “Good day to you both,” he said before hurrying off.

Erwin watched him leave and then looked to Mike. “Not terribly friendly, is he?”

With a shrug, Mike turned and took his horse’s reins. “You can imagine he’s under quite a lot of pressure.”

That doesn’t change the fact that it’s discouraging, Erwin thought with a slight grimace as he followed closely behind.

As the sun rose the town awoke with it, and the doors of homes yawned open like mouths with men, women, and children flooding out, slow breaths of life into the streets. Although most seemed to be content with ignoring Erwin and Mike altogether, Erwin was not entirely oblivious to the occasional suspicious or even hostile glance from the older people of the town. Being a lawyer, he wasn’t unfamiliar with such glances, but knowing the reason behind them made the situation more unnerving than usual.

He ignored them to the best of his ability, though soft mumbles and hushed whispers began to arise wherever they passed. Just outside of the town center, they stopped outside of a small home so decorated with flowers and herbs that it would seem that spring had never left it.

White angelica blooms surrounded the foundation and thick heather coated the ground under hanging arrays of lavender, cloves, and sage. Ivy climbed the walls at every side and flowering plants of all kinds wrapped around the sides of the house. Although Erwin could not see the back, he suspected it was equally as impressive.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Mike said as they approached the house, “the person who lives here is a bit… um, eccentric.” Erwin was silent, unsure of how to respond. “The sole fact that they have not been tried for witchcraft is nothing short of a miracle.” He looked thoughtful, confused even, and seemed to shake off whatever thought was plaguing him.

Erwin approached the door, determined to get this over with. Whoever this person was, he wasn’t terribly concerned with them. He was more interested in meeting the accused and more of the afflicted children, but if Mike had led him here, it must be important for one reason or another.

Before he could knock, the door swung open just as it had at the courthouse, and Erwin took a startled step back.

“You’ve kept me here long enough,” came a quiet, harsh voice from the man coming through the door. Had he not spoken, Erwin might have mistaken him for a child. He was barely taller than five feet with dark hair and an ageless, expressionless face, although Erwin couldn’t see much of it because the man’s head was turned. “The sun’s up, Zoë, and God knows that beast of a man is probably already out and about, sniffing around –” He nearly bumped into Erwin and the surprise silenced him.

“…Good morning,” Erwin said after a brief silence in which he wasn’t sure if the man would leave or assault him.

The cold, gray eyes peered up at him, then shifted to Mike and narrowed suspiciously. Without a word, he slipped past Erwin and Mike, tucking a package under his arm and cloak, and hurried away. Erwin noted that Mike’s nose was wrinkled, as though he smelled something foul, though Erwin smelled nothing but the lavender growing beside them.

“Wait, wait!” a frantic voice called out and a young person, as androgynous if not more so than Nanaba, came rushing to the door, pouch in hand. Although the person standing in the door wore men’s breechs, their figure was decidedly feminine.“Levi, you forgot… your chamomile,” she sighed, shoulders sagging, and she scratched her head, ruffling the brown hair falling around her face in tangled waves. Her brown eyes immediately brightened behind round spectacles and she smiled when she turned to the new visitors. “Well, if he’s grumpy because he can’t sleep tonight, it isn’t my problem,” she said with a laugh, whipping her hair up into a messy bun and pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Come in, come in!”

“A little early for business, don’t you think, Mr. Zoë?” Mike murmured accusingly as she stepped aside and ushered them through the door.

Erwin whipped his head around and looked at Mike, then back at the figure in the door, which now seemed to be slightly more masculine. _This town is going to be the death of me…_

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about!” Zoë said in a cheerful voice. “Tea?”

“Please,” Erwin said, heaving a defeated sigh. He looked around the room, which was in shambles, with papers and herbs and books lying all about. In the corner was a small desk with a pile of colorful books, and at it sat a young blond boy, scribbling away with a quill.

As they walked into the house, Zoë scurried back into the kitchen and returned only seconds later, somehow balancing four teacups in their grip and again looking feminine. Mike chuckled beside Erwin who simply stared as she deposited one teacup on the desk for the boy, muttering, "Here you are, Armin, dear." When she looked up, she met Erwin's gaze. “It’s honestly not difficult,” Zoë said with a smile. “Balance is all in the mind.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s baffling him,” Mike laughed.

Zoë joined in the laughter, leaving Erwin standing alone, silent, and confused. “It’s just too early in the morning for me to decide.” Tea found its way into Erwin’s and Mike’s hands.

“Erwin, this is Hanji Zoë.”

“Mister or Miss?” Erwin finally braved the question, exasperated. To his relief, Hanji did not seem to be offended in the least. If anything, they were tickled.

“Neither,” she stated at first, then thought for a second before correcting with a nod. “Both.” After another second of thought, Zoë shrugged. “Either. Hanji works just fine, no need for formalities if you can’t wrap your mind around them, Mr. Smith,” she said in a somewhat patronizing, amused tone. “Most of Salem knows me as Miss Zoë, if that simplifies things for you.”

Erwin drank his tea entirely too hastily, as if to replace the taste of foot in his mouth. Hanji was quick to fill it again.

“What brings you here today, Mike?” Hanji asked, sipping tea and sitting on the edge of her seat, leaning close to them.

“I’m introducing Erwin to those I think might aid him in his investigation.”

“Surely you intend to introduce him to the accused?”

“Naturally,” Mike responded, “but I thought it unnecessary to wake them so early.”

Hanji nodded knowingly. “Poor things, really. And Tituba?”

“Fled back to Barbados,” Mike grumbled. “I came across her the night before Erwin arrived. She was spooked, though she wasn’t afraid that I would return her to her master. She seemed more frightened of – ”

“’The devil in Salem,’” Hanji interrupted, her voice suddenly very grave. “Yes, she spoke to me about it. I’m glad she got out. Smart girl, that one. Too smart for Salem.” She shook her head and sighed. “Right. Well, Nanaba probably told you, but their… gardening group is meeting this afternoon, and I think it would behoove Mr. Smith to attend a meeting.”

“I thought the same.”

“You know,” Erwin interrupted the two, a scowl on his face. He set his tea on the table, having lost the stomach for it. “If you continue to talk above my head and leave out information, there is little I can do for Salem.” Erwin looked between the two of them. “You will either include me in all that you know, or you will not and I will leave.”

Mike hesitated then nodded. “Come to the meeting this afternoon,” he said at last.

“Visit Levi,” Hanji added. “He just left.”

Mike shot a glance at Hanji.

“What would be wrong with that, Mike?” Erwin asked through pursed lips. He was growing weary of the sly glances the people of this town passed as if he could not see them, and of the way Nanaba and Mike seemed to be stringing him along.

Mike turned to him. “I think you should meet Nanaba’s friends first,” he said assertively. “And maybe some of them could accompany you.”

“And why should I need their company?”

“That is an excellent question!” Hanji said cheerfully. “After all, he is your neighbor, Mr. Smith. A short, intimate visit would be the _neighborly_ thing to do.”

Erwin’s mind took him back to the drowsy ride past the woods after his arrival, the lantern shining through the trees and the short figure silhouetted and still, watching.

“Right,” Erwin said definitively, standing. “I think I know how I am going to spend my morning. Mike, I will return to the courthouse at noon, and you can introduce me to the accused and take me to this silly gardening affair.”

“Erwin –” Mike started, but Erwin was already headed out the door. He bit his lip and shot a glare at Hanji before he stood to follow. He felt an inhumanly strong grip on his wrist and looked back to find Hanji’s thin fingers wrapped around it.

“Let him go,” she said in a low voice. “Let him find out.”

“But what if – ”

“Do you not trust me?” Hanji asked firmly. “Do you not trust Erwin?” As Mike relaxed a bit and no longer tried to pull away, Hanji released her grip. “Besides, your time might be better spent warming the others up to the idea of an outsider. You remember how long they were nervous about you.”

Mike sighed and sat again, resigned. He took up his teacup and began sipping slowly as he watched Erwin ride out of sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, from here on out, I'll probably update weekly or something so that I can give myself some more time to stay caught up. Thanks for reading so far! Again, comments are rad~


	4. Greymalkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Erwin begins to take his investigation into his own hands, he is met only with hostility and a cup of tea.

Although Erwin kept the horse moving at little faster than a walk, he was surprised to find they had not overtaken the short man who had left only moments before. The road was strangely quiet, with not so much as a birdcall to interrupt the sound of hooves against the ground.

Without the light of a lantern shining through the trees, the house was significantly more difficult to locate than Erwin expected, but he finally found a small, worn trail leading into the forest. He ushered the horse forward, though it snorted and swished its tail in protest.

The house wasn’t much larger than the one Erwin himself was staying in, though it was made of stone and a chimney protruded from the side, spewing thin wisps of smoke into the tall branches above. Much like Hanji’s, ivy climbed up the walls of the house, and herbs grew in a much less organized array, as if grown wild. Curtains were drawn closed over the wide front windows and a heavy wooden door stood at the end of a rocky path.

Erwin tied the reins to a low branch on a nearby tree and followed the small path. He gave a sharp rap at the door and immediately heard shuffling and scraping on the other side. After a moment, the door slowly opened and there he stood – the short, dark-eyed man who had nearly run him over.;

“Did no one ever tell you it is terribly rude to show up to one’s home unannounced?” he asked in an even tone, his expression impossible to read. He propped himself against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest, careful to keep himself in between Erwin and the inside of the house.

“And again, good morning,” Erwin said with a bright smile on his face as if that alone could counter the subtle hostilities. “I believe we met very briefly a short while ago.” He caught his eyes wandering easily above the shorter man’s head and into the house.

“That is quite the loose term,” Levi shot back, bringing his attention back to those dark eyes.

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.” Erwin laughed in his most amiable way and held out his hand. “My name is Erwin Smith. I just moved into –”

Levi interrupted with an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, I know who you are, and where you are, and why you have come to Salem.” He shoved himself up from the doorframe and pushed the door open before turning and walking back into the house. At first, Erwin waited, but finally Levi turned and looked over his shoulder. “I imagine you’re here to ask some ludicrous questions. Let’s get it over with.”

Erwin took the invitation and followed Levi inside. The first thing he took note of was that the house was impeccably clean. There wasn’t so much as a streak on the back windows and the sunspots fell through it to the floor as easily as through the leaves. There wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt to be found, and a broom, bucket, and couple of rags stood in a corner nearby, as if they were used so frequently that they could not be bothered to be put away. The second thing to catch his eye was a bubbling cauldron over a fire in the fireplace, sending wisps of smoke up the chimney in an even flow, and beside it, a black tea kettle.

“What are you cooking so early in the day?” Erwin asked curiously. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had asked – the answer was irrelevant. It could be, he pondered, that the beliefs of the town had begun to worm themselves into his mind.

“Dinner,” Levi responded without missing a beat, and Erwin was amused to find that he felt relieved. “Sit.” He gestured to a small table that sat against the wall and level with a windowsill, lined with organized bowls full of various, unidentifiable substances.

As the lawyer made his way to the table, he felt a weight on his feet, sliding heavy against his ankles. He barely managed to catch himself and he looked down at the purring lump. There in the floor was a tragically unattractive cat. It was one of the largest Erwin had ever seen, with a dirty, matted gray coat and yellow eyes, one of which was squinted. It’s tail was bent and crooked, and there were chips and bite marks in what was left of its ears.

“Ah. You have a cat,” Erwin said, finding it almost comical.

“I don’t.”

“But –”

“It’s not my cat.” Levi lifted the cat under its belly, holding it as far from his body as he could. The tip of its tail twitched and swayed, and it purred so deeply that Erwin thought he could feel it in his own chest. With a gentle swing, he tossed the cat out of the front door. Before he closed it, loud, ear-splitting yowls sounded. Levi poked his head out of the door once more. “You’re not my cat,” he said in an insistent voice, and the yowling paused only briefly enough to hear it.

Erwin took a seat and began studying the bowls leisurely, occasionally sniffing at one, though when he looked up again he jumped to his feet.

Levi, without any manner of protection from the heat, reached out and took the kettle from above the fire as if it were room temperature. He carried the kettle and two cups to the table and poured them both full before taking a seat. He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms again and met Erwin’s gaze through the gossamer steam rising from the cups. All in all, he looked entirely uninterested.

“Did you not burn your hand?” Erwin asked in disbelief as he fell back into his seat, trying to get a glance at Levi’s fingers. Levi simply shook his head. “How?”

Without even the slightest change of expression, Levi replied, “I wrote my name in the Devil’s black book for the magical power to serve tea without the inconvenience of burning myself or the leaves.”

Erwin remained silent, watched Levi’s face for any signs of humor and found none. “I’m inclined to believe you, between the cat, the cauldron, and the townspeople.”

“And here I thought you were more reasonable than that.” He sipped from his tea, and Erwin took that as an indication that it was more or less safe, even if lacking significantly in chamomile.

The yowling stopped at last, and Levi heaved a sigh. Without warning, the gray beast leapt onto the table and sat in between them with a soft, affectionate coo. For a moment, a panicked expression flashed across Levi’s face and his hand shot out to steady the shaking tea kettle.

“How did she…”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. But I wish I did. It’s probably the same way the draft finds its way in at night.” He waved his hand at the cat when its nose came a bit too close to his teacup, which he then held close to his chest and stared at Erwin expectantly. He didn’t take his hand from the kettle, instead sliding it closer to himself as if to protect it.

“Right, then. Well, no doubt you’ve heard about the things happening in the town,” Erwin started, but paused when Levi quirked a pencil-thin eyebrow.

“Ah,” he finally breathed as if remembering something. “I’m not sure if you’re referring to the plants growing slightly out of season or the fact that Ha’Satan himself is supposedly here raising Hell and tormenting children with cheap party tricks.”

“Mr. Levi,” Erwin said impatiently, “I understand that you are less than pleased at my being here, and I really am terribly sorry it was at such short notice. However, it is imperative that I question as many people as possible and gather as much information as necessary to see that innocents are saved from the gallows.” He pinned Levi with his blue gaze, catching a spark of surprise in the grey staring back. “I have already dealt with a great deal this morning, and the more you cooperate, the sooner I can be on my way. Now, if you please,” he leaned forward and laced his fingers together, resting his forearms on the table, “would you tell me what you know?”

Levi’s expression remained the same, but he stayed silent for a moment, studying Erwin’s face. Finally, he sighed and looked out of the window, staring forlornly at the sunspots in the grass as his fingers circled the tip of the kettle’s black spout. “I know the nature of the fits. I know that Nanaba is helping as best they can. I know that Zacharias is sniffing around trying to play at detective. And I know that many strange things have been happening at once, and it is understandable why that is unnerving to the disgustingly superstitious.” The cat made to climb into his lap, and he nudged it off the table and into the floor.

“Why were you in town earlier? What did you take from Hanji?”

“Tea, and herbs for it. And yours is getting cold.” Erwin quickly sipped from the cup, afraid to offend, though it was still quite hot. “On that note, if you were going to come here, you could have brought my chamomile.”

“I left in quite a hurry…” Purring sounded from underneath them as that heavy weight returned to slink around Erwin’s ankles in a tight figure-eight.

“Trying to get out from under Zacharias’s nose, no doubt. Nigh impossible, considering the size of it…”

“Why do you harbor such hostile feelings towards Mike?” Erwin asked, almost defensively. Mike may have seemed a bit extreme in his approaches, but it was clear that his interest lay with the well-being of Salem and its people. To have someone so vehemently contrary to him seemed odd, at best.

Levi breathed slowly out of his nose. “I am concerned that he might try to accuse me. He has always seemed suspicious of me, though I have never spoken to him, nor given him any reason to suspect me.”

Erwin shook his head. “Mike would not accuse someone of something without sound proof.”

Levi turned and met Erwin’s eyes again. “Your faith in your friend is touching. But there are five innocent people in prison, and there will be more, mark my words. I cannot afford to have the same faith in him that you do.”

“I understand, but rest assured, I have known Mike for many years –”

“Has the town seemed quiet to you? Lacking in the mass hysteria you were expecting?” Erwin thought back to the past days. It had struck him as odd that although the magistrate mentioned a stir and Mike seemed to fear outright hysteria, the most grievous thing he had encountered so far was nasty stares. As he thought, he continued to sip at his tea, and a part of his mind preoccupied itself trying to decipher the flavor.

“Puritans internalize even their panic,” Levi continued. “It is quite convenient for avoiding unnecessary conflict. But when things start to heat up – and they will heat up – things will change. When this affair has passed in whatever severity it will, I have a feeling we will all come out of it as entirely different people, Mike included.” He stood and pushed his chair under the table. “It is approaching midday, Mr. Smith, and I still have much to do, as I’m sure you do as well.” Before he knew it, Erwin was standing and following Levi to the door. His feet moved almost mechanically across the floor, as if he simply could not be bothered to stop. “Perhaps we can continue this conversation at a later time. And with more notice,” Levi said by way of farewell before closing the door behind him.

Erwin stood there for a moment in disbelief, unsure of _how_ he had been forcefully ejected from Levi’s home, but quite sure that he had been.

 


	5. Ilse's Testament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although interviewing the accused should clear some of the mystery surrounding Salem, it serves only to do just what every other potentially helpful course of action has - make the cases more complicated.

Questions continued to linger in Erwin’s mind as he rode slowly back to town. He chewed at his lower lip, so lost in thought that he was thankful that the horse seemed to know its own way back.

Witches or no witches, there was something bizarre about Levi, and Erwin was intent on finding out what exactly that was. He came to the house hoping for answers and left with questions and a feeling of being watched. Even now as the horse trudged down the road, Erwin felt like the trees were looming over him, breathing down on his shoulders, as though the autumn itself were a witch, its spell settling over Salem with red leaves and yellow butterflies and chilling, quiet air.

He distracted himself from the unnerving atmosphere by focusing on the questions he left with. How had Levi so easily convinced him to leave? What more did the man know? Why had he been so defensive? Why had Hanji, Mike, Nanaba, even the magistrate all been avoiding his questions, or answering them in ways that would simply reroute him to more mysteries? And, now that he was looking back on it with a fresh mind, what of the attacks?

It was much like Mike said, as ridiculous as it sounded: These things all occurring at once was entirely too coincidental. Reason was, queerly enough, becoming unreasonable, and the thought left him with an uncomfortable, jittery feeling.

All the same, he thought, his primary goal was to free those who were, surely, innocent of witchcraft. Surely…

The sun crept across the sky, slinking between clouds and leaves as Erwin finally reentered the town to find Mike and Magistrate Dawk waiting for him.

“Your Honor,” Erwin said with a nod. Dawk nodded back and they rode towards the jail.

“I apologize for my shortness this morning,” Dawk replied. His voice was still a grumble, but Erwin was beginning to believe that that was simply how he spoke. “I had testimonies to look into. This situation has become complicated with the disappearance of the only one who confessed to dealing with familiar spirits.”

“Tituba,” Erwin clarified and Dawk nodded again.

“Yes. She was incredibly valuable to these cases, but Reverend Verman seems to be angrier at having lost his slave woman.”

The jail was a rickety wooden shack out behind the courthouse, barely standing in all truth, and large enough for no more than two score men standing. It had wide-set doors like a barn with a chain drug through its bars to keep them closed. Two drowsy looking men, presumably guards, sat on a small bench outside, conversing about something in low voices.

Dawk approached and unlocked the door. The chain slithered loudly to the ground and the guards helped to pull the doors open. Erwin dismounted his horse and peered into the building. Five people sat in relative darkness, five pairs of eyes peered out from unwashed faces at him. Some lit up. Others simply turned away. Shackles bound their wrists together and even from his distance, Erwin could see how the skin beneath had been rubbed raw.

“Listen well,” Dawk called into the building, “I am sure that word has gotten to you about a lawyer from New York, come to Salem to plead your cases.” He gestured for Erwin to step forward. “This is Mr. Erwin Smith. You may each come to speak to him singularly, and in orderly fashion. Are we in agreement?”

Dejected nods and mumbled agreements answered him.

“Good,” Dawk heaved a relieved sigh and his shoulders relaxed. “Luke Siss,” he called, beckoning a man forward.

“Your Honor,” Erwin interrupted quietly. “I don’t believe the irons are necessary.”

Another sigh answered him. “Unfortunately, Mr. Smith, I believe they are.” As he turned his horse and began to ride away, he added, “Pure iron keeps a witch from casting.”

Erwin ground his teeth but let it be, turning to the tall, emaciated man who shuffled out of the shack. As the guards shifted their eyes from him to the others, Luke Siss and Erwin sat on an unoccupied bench.

“Good evening, Mr. Siss,” Erwin said with a smile. The man answered only with an exhausted nod. He looked thin and sickly, covered in dirt and grime and seemed to have a general darkness about him, as if his hopelessness asserted itself physically over him.

“It was my own niece,” the man said finally, though he refused to meet Erwin’s eyes. He waited patiently, hoping Siss might continue to speak, and his silence paid off. “My very own niece accused me. Said she saw me in her sleep, said I attacked her.”

“Could you elaborate?” Erwin asked.

Siss released a long breath as if he had held it since his trial. “There is not much to elaborate on, Mr. Smith,” he replied, pursing his lips. “She accused me before the court of Salem. She was not herself… No plea would go against her word. When I spoke she turned pale and cold, and she screamed… ” His voice broke and trailed off.

Beyond that, Erwin’s questions went unanswered. By the time Erwin thanked him and asked him to send out another, the sun was creeping across the sky and threatening to touch the treetops.

The next man, Dita Ness, refused to sit beside Erwin. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his irons and making the chains rattle and scrape against one another.

“Mr. Ness, what reason did Abigail Williams have to accuse you of witchcraft?” Erwin asked first, hoping to skip the awkward mumbling and tiptoeing of the previous conversation.

“I know not, sir,” Ness replied gruffly. “Truthfully, we had never spoken.”

“Then why might -”

“It is my fear, nay, my belief that she has been put up to it.” Erwin waited eagerly for elaboration. Ness sat beside him at last and leaned close. His voice was just above a whisper. “Her father has long tried to purchase my land, but I would not sell. Now that I am convicted by his child, my land is on the market. I have no way of knowing, but he has imprisoned me and bought my land, I am sure of it.”

Erwin searched the man’s eyes, and they were lit with a fire of passion and conviction. He nodded sharply. “I will look into it. Would you mind if I came back in a few days time to ask more questions?”

A small smile tugged at Ness’s lips. “I would much appreciate that, sir. Godspeed, Mr. Smith. I have faith that you will have this straightened out in no time.” Before Erwin could respond, Ness stood and returned to the shack, where he aided an elderly woman in standing and creeping towards the door.

Rebecca Nurse, and old woman who could barely hobble out of the shack, reached the bench with Erwin’s and Ness’s aide. She was tall and thin, her back bent and twisted like an old cane, and warts and freckles covered her face - she very much reminded Erwin of the witches in fairy tales, though there was nothing but weary kindness in her face. Evening was creeping upon them and the outline of the moon began to show in the sky as they sat side by side.

“Mrs. Nurse,” he started, “I will be brief in an effort to question you and Martha Easty before dark-”

“There is no rush, Mr. Smith,” the woman replied calmly. Her voice croaked and creaked like the boards of Erwin’s temporary home. “My sister will not answer questions. She is a stubborn old bat, and has been in quite a fit since her trial.Besides, we won’t be going anywhere.” She seemed endearingly amused, but a worry shone in her still-bright stone gray eyes. “Let me sum this up for you quickly. You have yet to question your most valuable asset.” Erwin opened his mouth to speak, but a firm, wrinkled finger pressed to his lips. “It is getting dark, Mr. Smith.”

Erwin paused, hesitant to let her so easily dictate the conversation, but at last resigned himself to silence.

“I was accused by the Putnam family children. During the trial, they would turn cold and faint, or scream that I was a bird in the rafters, attempting to peck out their eyes. It was a frightening affair, but the children were quite convinced.” She seemed stern, worried. “I know that Master Ness has been going on about this land conspiracy, and I have no doubt of it in his case. However, conspiracy is a red herring, Mr. Smith.”

He looked at her as she paused. She seemed a concerned grandmother. After a moment, she continued. “Those children were not themselves. There was something dark about them. I implore you, Mr. Smith, even if you cannot save us, save these children.”

“That is very good of you, Mrs. Nurse, but may I ask you…” His question trailed off as he noticed her struggling to stand again.

“I have not the energy to answer inquiries of legalities,” she responded, and he hurried to help her. “I put the fate of this town in your hands, and my own in God’s. May He be with you.” Her voice was stern, and Erwin dare not push such a frail and stubborn woman. He let Ness help her back to the shack.

As the dark continued it slow creep across the sky, revealing bright stars, his mind began to wander to the gardening that was mentioned earlier. Did Mike still intend for him to go? He had been so adamant earlier, and yet, how could one garden in the dark? His hopes were nonexistent and his interest was dwindling for the last woman to come out, a girl barely into her twenties, wide-eyed with passion.

“My name is Ilse Langnar, sir,” she said quietly as she sat beside him, arms tense and fists clenched in her lap, bruised and rubbed bloody by iron shackles.

“Alright Miss Langnar,” Erwin said, “why don’t you tell me about your trial?”

“No, sir,” Ilse said, her voice wavering. “I don’t think it would do any good.”

“That’s hardly the attitude to have.”

“You don’t understand, sir,” she said, glancing around to see if anyone was in earshot. “You see, I _am_ a witch.” She spoke the word so quietly that it barely made it past her lips.

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“But it weren’t _I_ who attacked the girls! Nor any of the others, I believe. It’s not natural, what’s doing it. It isn’t us!”

“No, I –”

“I won’t be signing myself to a formal confession, either, sir,” she continued, speech rapid and frantic, begging no interruption. “They say if we confess, we may go free. I don’t believe them. ‘Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,’ they say, and if they hang the powerless, then what will they do to me? I can’t give in. I won’t!”

“Miss Langnar,” Erwin reached out and grabbed her shoulders. “Slow down. You said the other prisoners did nothing, so you attest to their innocence?”

Ilse shook her head. “No, sir, not the prisoners. The other witches. But the prisoners are innocent, as well,” she said, as though as an afterthought.

Erwin sighed. “Ilse,” he chided slowly, trying to keep her attention, “I appreciate all that you have told me, and I believe I can help you without allowing a false confession. However, you will have to be honest with me.”

A quick nod of the head, but no words from Ilse.

“Completely, entirely honest,” he added, prodding.

Another nod.

“Ilse, you are _not_ a witch.”

“But I…” she glanced around again. “But I am, I am!” she pleaded in a whisper, her thin, white fingers clutching desperately at her skirts.

Erwin stared at her, exhausted with the whole ordeal already and growing uncomfortable again, impatient. He took and released a deep breath slowly through his nose. “Alright then, Ilse. Attack me with your spirit.”

Ilse half-laughed at that. “I cannot do that.”

“Then you are no –”

“But I _can_ do this,” she whispered slyly before closing her eyes. “In your pocket, you carry a letter. You’ve read it quite a bit – it’s wrinkled and the seal has come off completely. Your pocketbook is in the breast pocket of your coat…. Have you lost a stocking recently?” Her eyes shot open and she peered at him curiously. He nodded, thinking back to the morning. “Check beneath the wardrobe. I’m afraid it has a run in it, however.”

Erwin studied her face for a while. Although she had been right, he dismissed it to guessing and observation. It was no stretch to think she may have seen the letter in his pocket, or the outline of his pocketbook. With no way to prove if she was right at that exact moment, it was easier to be skeptical.

“Well?” Ilse said after a considerable silence on his part. “Can you help?

Erwin pursed his lips and stared at her.

“Erwin.” He whipped his head around to see the source of the deep voice  before he felt a hand on his shoulder. “We have to go now,” Mike said. He turned to Ilse and smiled apologetically. “My apologies. He is attending our meeting.”

Ilse’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “Then you’ll have no choice,” she said excitedly to Erwin, and although he did not believe she meant it to be so, the words seemed threatening, hanging in the air like a noose. “You _will_ help us.”


	6. A Black Hat Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Erwin suspects that something is amiss, nothing can prepare him for what is waiting in the woods, under cover of darkness.

Erwin couldn’t erase them as he and Mike rode into the dark night - the faces of the accused, ranging from hopeful to worried to downcast, all reliant on him, all looking to him for answers or freedom or protection, and the gravity of the task he had been given finally began to weigh on his shoulders heavily. Now that he had met the lives that were at stake should he fail to prove their innocence, the issue seemed much more real.

They followed the now familiar path out of town for a while, then turned into the woods and began to ride along a well-hidden, though worn trail through underbrush.

Erwin remained silent, his eyes on Mike’s back as he thought. He knew this was going to be no “garden meeting” and he had begun to question his trust in Mike. The secrets in this town were beginning to eat away at him slowly, maggots boring holes in his reason. He never thought a day might come when his trust in Mike would be brought to question, but it began to occur to him how threatening Ilse’s words how been, and how isolated the two of them were becoming…

He was tense already when the quick crunch and rustle of leaves approached him from the left. In seconds, Nanaba’s horse overtook him. They rode wordlessly, side by side, no conversation or question or glance passing between them for several moments.

“I trust that your interrogation was insightful,” Nanaba at last broke the silence in a dull tone.

“Everyone has placed a good bit of faith in me, it seems,” Erwin replied in an equally guarded voice, though he glanced at them from the corner of his eye.

Nanaba turned and faced him then. “See to it that you do not let them down.”

“I don’t intend to.”

At last, warm, flickering light began to show through the branches, and Mike led them into a small clearing. In the middle, where the grass had been burned on previous nights, stood a decent sized fire surrounded by stones in a tight circle. He felt the heat on his brow even from the edge of the trees as they approached and the bright flames illuminated four faces. Each person sat about arm’s length from each other, and although they seemed relieved at the sight of Mike and Nanaba, when their firelit eyes met Erwin’s, that relief gave way to concern.

“So you really brought him,” remarked the man sitting closest to them. It was difficult to make out his face with the fire outlining him so brightly in the dark.

“Yes, I was told I could learn proper care for perennials,” Erwin grumbled.

“I appreciate your humor, Mr. Smith,” Nanaba said as they secured the horses near others standing idly by, “but now is not the time for it.” They approached the fire and stood beside the first speaker. Mike loped beside them in long strides.

Erwin sighed and joined them. “Right. Then I suggest someone explain exactly what this is all about.”

“Mr. Smith,” said a young woman as she approached him. She was dressed as any other woman in the village, though had long removed her cap to reveal a bright chestnut bun of hair pinned atop her head. “I apologize for the secrecy, but I am certain you will understand. My name is Petra.”

“And you are a witch,” Erwin finished for her.

With a slight chuckle, Petra shook her head, and Erwin’s eyes lit with hope. “Not exactly.” With an almost audible thud, Erwin felt his heart sink. “Witch is a terribly broad term,” she explained, still smiling an amiable smile. “I prefer to be called gifted.”

The girl seemed so earnest in her words, and the others showed no sign of amusement or jest, but even so this was getting out of hand. Erwin remained quiet, so shocked by the absurdity that he was unsure of how to respond to her.

She pointed to the first speaker. “That is Gunther, then Eld, and Auruo,” she said, pointing to each of them in turn. Erwin caught himself slightly surprised that he didn’t see Levi among the small group, but recalling the look he had shared with Mike, he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He nodded acknowledgement to each of them in turn, and although Eld and Gunther were kind enough to offer hesitant smiles, Auruo simply crossed his arms and huffed indignantly. “I assume you have already been acquainted with Ilse.”

“I have.”

“Then surely you believe –”

“I am no longer sure what I believe,” he cut her off sternly. “And I would like to know exactly why I have been brought here.” He turned to Mike, who met his gaze evenly. “I think that I have been owed explanations for quite some time.”

But Petra would not be so easily ignored. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her again, her face no longer friendly and smiling, but scowling. “You are here to get your explanations, Mr. Smith. And hopefully you will provide us with explanations as well.”

Mike came to Erwin and put a hand on his other shoulder. He guided him to the fireside and sat in the grass, patting the spot beside him expectantly. At last, Erwin sat, and Petra beside him. “I admit I have been keeping some things from you. However, I was sure that if I was honest with you from the beginning, you would write us all off as insane and refuse us aide.”

“I would have,” Erwin admitted, though only in his thoughts did he admit that maybe he should have.

“And has Ilse convinced you that we are not insane?”

“No,” Erwin said after a moment of thought. “She has simply made me question my own sanity. You can't honestly expect me to  _believe_ all of this, can you?" he demanded, staring hard at Mike.

“All of that aside,” Auruo snapped from the other side of the fire, “Ilse is innocent. None of us are hurting the people of Salem, and we are weary of being blamed. And truthfully, that is all that you should concern yourself with.”

“Although he could stand to mind his tone,” Petra grumbled and threw Auruo a glare, “Auruo is right. Whether or not you believe that we are witches, something is attacking Salem. We know not what, only that it is not human.”

“Whatever this is, I’m afraid I have no experience in dealing with it,” Erwin said. “I’m not sure how I can be of assistance...”

“You are a lawyer, are you not?” Gunther asked. “And do lawyers not defend the innocent from the misguided accusations of the law?” After a pause, he continued. “We need to seek out this pest, but our primary concern is to defend ourselves. And that is where you come in.”

Erwin glanced around the fire again, and found only seriousness and even fear in the faces surrounding it.

“Please, sir,” Petra pleaded, reaching out to take his hands in hers. “We are all frightened for Ilse, for ourselves.”

Erwin still sat in silence, unsure of what to say.

“There must be some kind of middle ground. There must be a compromise,” Nanaba said in an expectant voice. They stared at him, all but glaring at his silence. “For God’s sake, man!” They threw their hands in the air. “Think of what you have seen! Think of Braus, think of young Sasha! You saw my bag there, I know you did. What, you think I loosened her tongue with a pat on the back and a piece of bread? Think of Hanji, think of Ilse. Even if you insist on your blatant denial, one thing is certain – they are frightened. We are, all of us, in danger of something. Even if you are right, and it is simply circumstantial nonsense and we have all lost our heads, would it not simply be for the better if you were to stay and prove it? Put an end to the accusations, avoid hangings, hell, you may even inspire us to be sensible enough to turn into another of your precious New Yorks!”

“Erwin,” Mike said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder again, “I know you have had quite a long visit already, and you have my sincerest apologies. Do me one last favor. Attempt to think of all of this in a different light. Entertain us, entertain what we tell you, and approach this as you would from there. Even if there is nothing you can do, what have you to lose?”

With a rub of his brow, Erwin nodded. “Alright. This is your victory for now, though I fear I am being dragged into something dreadfully troublesome… I will do what I can.”

Smiles and relieved glances passed between the company, and it almost made Erwin glad that he had accepted the challenge. He thought Petra might cry. “You’ve no idea how much it eases our hearts to hear it,” she said, squeezing his hands earnestly.

“I am afraid that I will still have to ask for proof of your powers,” Erwin added.

“Gifts,” Petra corrected.

Erwin nodded and patted her hands. “Gifts. That way, I may distinguish between them and the power of the one who is attacking the children.”

“Even now, he looks for proof,” Auruo said with a huff.

“And he has the right!” Petra barked, and Auruo shot her a sheepish look. “However, I am afraid that the majority of our gifts lie in the unseen.”

Naturally, Erwin caught himself thinking, though he managed to somehow hold his tongue.

“I heard that,” Nanaba murmured.

“For instance, Eld,” Petra pointed at the tall blond, “can separate his spirit from his body. Much like the familiar spirits the children claim to see.” She nodded at Gunther. “An augury witch. He interprets omens, to put it very, very simply. Ilse is skilled in divination and scrying.”

“I see.”

“Auruo can communicate with beasts. They don’t often like him, though.” Auruo huffed in protest. “Though granted, he is also a gifted channeler. Mike, although he denies being a witch, can smell them nearly a mile away.” She finally looked at Nanaba, borderline nervously. “Nanaba is a pyrokinetic… They can start fires with their mind.”

“Ah, quite matches their temper,” Erwin added, and he heard Nanaba chuckle in response. He opened his mouth, but they cut him off.

“No, I will not prove it. I can start a fire, but cannot control it. Look at where you are. I will not start a fire in a dry forest.”

Petra shrugged. “Nanaba is also clairaudient, as I am sure you’ve discovered.”

"What are your gifts?" Erwin asked.

Petra took a deep breath and pursed her lips. "I am a faerie oracle," she said quickly. At Erwin's raised eyebrow, she sighed again. "I can see and speak with the fae folk, who wield incredible knowledge."

Erwin stared at her quietly, very tempted to tell her that this was by far the most ridiculous thing he had heard yet. “And Hanji?” he finally asked.

“No one is really sure about Hanji,” Gunther admitted.

“Well, surely Mike’s nose would come in handy…”

Mike shook his head. “Hanji is no witch.”

“However,” Eld interjected, “Hanji knows of witchcraft because she sells herbs to us.”

“What of Levi?”

The company fell silent. Erwin waited patiently until finally, Mike spoke up again. “He reeks of something. But he isn’t like us.”

“But he’s lived here longer than most of us,” Petra insisted quickly, as if jumping to the mysterious man’s defense. “He may not be like us, but I think it unfair to suspect him of foul play when he won’t so much as leave his home, and he has lived here far longer than the attacks have been taking place. Why start now?”

“We have discussed Levi at a previous gathering,” Nanaba explained. “He may or may not be trustworthy, but we don’t believe that he poses an immediate danger. Until we have further proof, we are withholding judgment.”

Silence enveloped the group again, and the only noise to accompany the uneasy glances was the crackling of wood and rustling of leaves in the autumn wind.

Erwin was quiet for a moment as well, then nodded with a sense of finality. “Moving on from that, then, if the lot of you claims to be supernatural in some capacity, and claims that the assailant is also not of this earth, then how do you expect me to defend you?”

“It stands to reason that there is something else here,” Eld replied, his voice low.

“Or someone,” Erwin agreed. He turned and exchanged a knowing, suspicious look with Mike before he stood from the ground.

“Erwin, whatever you’re going to do, I must advise against it…” he said sternly, though Erwin untied his horse and headed to the mouth of the dark trail they had followed to get to the gathering.

“I trust that you will bring me to these get-togethers in the future, Mike,” Erwin said by way of response. “It’s been a pleasure,” he called back as he disappeared into the forest, leaving a quiet and worried group behind.

“You’re just going to let him go?” Auruo snapped.

“I fail to see you on your feet…” Petra growled, digging her elbow to his side as Erwin made his way through the trees.


	7. Tea for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When Erwin looked from the teapot to meet Levi’s cold, stone eyes, he caught himself thinking, I have made a horrible mistake…"

Unforgiving wind tore through the trees and howled at Erwin as he rode, the steady clopping of hooves against the beaten path the only rhythm to sounds surrounding him. Somewhere in the forest, an animal howled with the wind, yelping and barking into the chilly night. He could still see and smell the smoke from the fire he’d left, and in a way it comforted him.

Erwin did not make a conscious decision to follow the path to Levi’s cottage. It seemed to manifest around him all its own, branches covered in dying leaves reaching out to him and snapping under the weight of his horse. A shiver crawled up his spine. Perhaps it was his suspicions and newfound doubt in things he had thought obvious, but the thought of seeing the little house gave him an eerie, frightful feeling, as though something crept behind his back, prepared to latch onto him. The path seemed to twist and wind more than usual and split into multiple others, and in some places it looked as though it had disappeared altogether, but would reappear shortly. His memory was serving him well, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the trail was trying to shake him off.

Something skittered and crawled in the underbrush and upturned fallen leaves, and though it made him jump, Erwin ignored it and kept his eyes on the path before him, suddenly very afraid of losing it.

The lantern was not lit. The only way he knew he had reached the home was the solid black shape blocking the moon from piercing through the trees and bushes. Faint light teased his eyes from behind dark curtains and as he grew closer, he could see a silhouette outlined against it. He ushered his horse closer, though it seemed hesitant to advance as far as it had in the light of day. With snorts and shakes of protest, it approached the house and finally stopped at a distance it seemed to deem safe. Erwin slid off, the sound of his boots hitting the stone path lost to the wind and leaves, and secured the horse to a branch. With a reassuring pat, he left it and cautiously walked towards the door.

The silhouette continued to sway and dance in the window and only when he grew closer was Erwin certain that it was not the shape of a person, but a very thin, tall shape, small enough for him to wrap his hand around easily and just shy of his shoulder in height. He felt dazed and perplexed, but shook the enchanting feeling and returned his attention to the door. With a deep breath, he knocked.

Something inside shuffled, something else hit the floor with a sharp _THWACK!_ After a moment of silence, a grumpy, muffled voice called, “Go away!”

Before Erwin could respond, he felt a weight brushing at his ankles, and the cat he had seen during his last visit scratched at the door and yowled. “Don’t you know how to get inside yourself?” Erwin grumbled quietly, though he was glad to see a somewhat familiar and friendly face.

After a second, the door swung open and Levi stood in the open doorway, staring down at the cat with what Erwin thought was a confused and frustrated look, though he could only see his eyes peeking from under his dark, shaggy hair. The lower half of his face was covered in a white cloth, tied around his nose and mouth. Erwin noticed another cloth in his hand, decidedly more filthy.

Levi jumped when he saw the visitor outside and the cat scurried past him into the house. Erwin took advantage of his surprise, too, and advanced, prepared to push past Levi if he must. The smaller man had surely truly been surprised, or intimidated, or both, because he moved his arm and allowed Erwin inside, though not without a glare.

“I’m terribly sorry to impose on you so late,” Erwin started calmly.

“As you should be,” Levi snapped, his voice muffled by the cloth, following Erwin back inside and all but slamming the door. “It is an ungodly hour, and I have no time for visitors.”

“I can see that,” Erwin said, taking note of the bucket of water by the table, the wet floor, and the broom lying haphazardly in the middle of the floor, just under the window. “It seems I’ve interrupted your cleaning,” he said absentmindedly as he stared at it. He turned his attention back to Levi. “Bizarre that one would choose to clean so late at night. Let’s talk over tea, shall we?”

Levi’s eyes narrowed to slits and he yanked the cloth from his face and let it rest around his neck. “I would very much like to finish my cleaning and get to bed. Come back in the morning.”

“But I’m here now. And what kind of man turns away a houseguest?”

“One who has been rudely imposed upon at odd hours.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Get out of my house.”

Erwin approached the fire, which still danced in its hearth under the shining black teapot he had seen before. “But it seems you’ve already prepared some.” He extended his bare fingers to the pot slowly. He felt the heat radiating from it in waves, could see the steam rising, and even then he wondered if he himself could touch the pot unscathed as Levi had.

Suddenly, Levi was beside him, slapping his reaching hand down. “Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.”

Startled, Erwin rubbed his throbbing hand and watched Levi as he took the pot from the fire. Again, he should have been burned, but showed no indication of pain as he carried it to the table, using his foot to kick the broom upright and catch it in his free hand in one fluid motion without missing a beat in his step. He propped it on the wall and poured a single cup of tea, filling the room with a smell like honey and chamomile. “What is so urgent that it could not wait for daylight?”

Erwin chuckled and joined him at the table, waiting for a cup of tea that never came. “I simply missed you. I wanted to pay a visit,” he said in something between a saccharine sweet and sarcastic tone.

“Hell has its own circle for flatterers,” Levi growled over the edge of his cup before taking a sip.

Erwin smirked as he sat down. Levi finally begrudgingly poured him a cup and slid it gingerly across the table. “And you would be the local authority on Hell, I presume?”

Levi’s stare turned to ice and seemed to pierce Erwin to his soul. “What say you?”

Erwin fingered his teacup as though to pick it up, then thought better of it and left it be. “It was nothing but a joke.”

“One in poor taste.”

“Perhaps.”

The gray cat leapt onto the table and Levi eyed it and the teapot before looking back to Erwin. “Why have you come?”

“I told you I had more questions for you, did I not?”

Levi sipped from his tea and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his thin legs and then his arms and stared at Erwin as if he had offered some manner of personal insult. “It is late. I am preoccupied, and I am weary. I’m afraid your inquiries will have to wait for tomorrow.”

Erwin sighed. “I would rather not argue about this all night,” he said as he leaned back as if to mirror Levi’s pose. “And I’m afraid these inquiries call for immediate answers.” When he went to cross his leg, his boot hit the wooden table with an intentional force and sent the table rocking onto two of its legs before slamming back to the floor.

Levi jumped as his tea spilled down his shirt, though a look of fear and panic struck his face as the teapot rocked and rolled and toppled over the edge of the table, out of his reach.

Neither of them moved an inch. Levi seemed to stop breathing and Erwin watched him intently, blue eyes shining expectantly, holding his teacup firmly in his hands with a satisfied expression. Between the tabletop and the floor, the teapot floated, frozen in midair.

His face lit with unexpected excitement, though his pleasure was short lived. When Erwin looked from the teapot to meet Levi’s cold, stone eyes, he caught himself thinking, _I have made a horrible mistake…_

From the kitchen, one of the knives hanging from the wall shot off of the nail from which it hung and hurled in a straight path towards Erwin, held by some invisible force. In the same instant, the door burst open and Mike flew in, crossing the room in no more than a few steps. The cat leapt from the table and scrambled out of the open door. Mike tackled Levi out of his chair and immediately covered his eyes, causing him to cry out. The knife froze, the tip only inches from the spot right between Erwin’s eyes.

Levi and Mike hit the floor and tumbled across it, a blur of flailing limbs and loud curses. The knife fell and clanked against the table, and Erwin had the good sense to snatch the teapot from the air before it crashed to the floor. Tea sloshed onto the wooden boards as Levi and Mike separated, Mike having been flung back to the table with inhuman strength as Levi stood and propped himself on the far wall, rubbing his eyes frantically.

When he finally stopped rubbing, though only for a second, Levi glared at Mike with a mixture of hatred and confusion. The skin around his eyes was bright red and irritated, as though it had been burned. “What are you?” he asked, out of breath. He pushed himself from the wall but seemed unable to stand straight, teetering for a second before falling back against it, still rubbing his eyes so furiously that he was not prepared for Mike to tackle him again, pinning him to the floor.

“Erwin,” Mike snapped as the man carefully carried the teapot over to them and stood in front of Levi, “do you have a single self-preserving bone in your body?!”

Erwin ignored the question and knelt down before Levi, whom Mike lifted onto his knees. He held the teapot just out of reach, and Levi’s eyes flickered from it to Erwin again, filled with such hatred that he feared it may kill him.

“Like I said,” he purred, “I’m sorry to impose so late, but my questions demand immediate attention.”


	8. Adder's Fork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his contempt, Levi comes to a shaky understanding with the Salem coven. It's all downhill from there.

“I would not try anything clever, if I were you,” Mike growled, firmly pinning Levi’s arms behind his back as they knelt on the floor.

Levi remained silent and calm, his eyes boring fiercely into Erwin’s, though the taller man did not flinch as he knelt in an attempt to be closer to eye level with him. The hatred had leveled out to little more than a hard stare, and it sent shivers running up and down Erwin’s spine. The irritation had hardly lessened, and he thought it more closely resembled a burn.

Erwin was glad, however, to see that Levi wasn’t struggling against Mike. He set the teapot beside him on the floor and carefully eased the handle to rest on its side. Even though he was kneeling, he bent at the waist even more to keep from looming over the little witch. “I would much rather not question you like this, but I must know that you won’t flee, or try to kill me.” He was met with no response besides a harsh exhale. He spoke softly and slowly, as if trying to calm a wild animal. “Levi, I wish for you to know that if you are not the one inflicting this town with the devilry it claims to be suffering, then I mean you no harm.”

“Then what do you mean by coming here and trapping me?”

“I had to force a situation in which someone would prove their power to me. I knew that afterwards, you would likely try to escape. I was not anticipating your attack,” he murmured, casting his eyes to the knife still lying in the floor. “And for that, I am glad for Mike. As for what more could I want,” he continued, “despite having …uh…”

“A coven,” Mike supplied.

“Yes. Despite having the aide of a coven, I feel that you can offer some valuable insight to some things. Am I wrong?” Silence. “Right, then.” Erwin flashed his most amiable smile at Levi, hoping even this small thing might warm him over. “Will you make a deal with me?”

Levi scoffed and turned his head away in contempt, but offered no other answer. Mike tightened his grip and Levi hissed in pain and squirmed as if to resist him.

Erwin sighed. “If the suspicions of the town continue to grow, likely they will begin to question the friendless and mysterious outcast that lives in the forest, no?” He paused, allowing his words to sink into the cracks of Levi’s silence. “And what will you do then? Can you ward off a mob on your own? Will you leave your home and run for the rest of your life?” Levi looked back to him, then, and Erwin could see begrudging understanding dawning on his face. “With your help, it may be avoided.”

Levi searched Erwin’s eyes for a moment as if for some sign of dishonesty. His own gaze softened only slightly, and Erwin felt the chills finally stop creeping along his body. “Release me,” Levi demanded at last, in such an authoritative voice that one might not have guessed he was at the disadvantage.

Mike looked to Erwin, who nodded, and withdrew his hands. Levi stood slowly. The other two rose with him, keeping their eyes on him, though Levi only gingerly rubbed his arms and winced. He bent and picked up his teapot and walked over to the table to set it down again. The cat, which had reappeared in the house at some point during the altercation, sat atop the table, swishing its tail and purring, and meowed at Levi. “And here, I was beginning to think we were friends,” Levi growled at it under his breath before taking a seat at the table. “You were no help at all, coward.”

Mike and Erwin joined him at the table, though neither sat. Mike loomed over him, close enough to grab him in the event that he must, and Erwin stood beside the chair opposite him.

“I take it that you are not the one attacking the children.”

“I am not.”

“How do you figure this?” Mike asked Erwin, his eyes still watching Levi.

“What reason have I to mean ill for them?” Levi snapped. “Particularly when it presents a threat to myself?”

Erwin looked to Mike and nodded with a slight smile. “My thinking precisely. Now, do you have an idea what manner of being is attacking them?”

Levi paused, then shook his head.

“You hesitate.”

Levi sighed and folded his arms. Mike responded to the sudden motion by reaching to grab him, but let his hand return to his side. “I have suspicions, but it is no earthly witchcraft with which I am familiar.”

Erwin sat in the chair and leaned across the table. “And what are you familiar with?”

Levi leaned forward as well without uncrossing his arms, straightening his back. “Slow down, lawyer. I have questions of my own.”

Erwin nodded and motioned for him to continue.

“What is that?” he asked, jabbing a finger in Mike’s direction. Mike simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean,” Erwin said slowly, looking up to Mike with furrowed eyebrows. Mike shook his head and shrugged, apparently also clueless.

“I simply thought him odd for a long time, until he began to act suspicious of me. When he and Banana became close –“

“Nanaba,” Mike corrected through his teeth.

“I suspected he might be a witch. And now,” he said, and then motioned to his irritated eyes. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms. The skin where Mike had held him was wrinkled and warped and irritated as well, and it even looked several shades darker than his skin tone. The outline of Mike’s fingers was easily traceable along his skin. “Now, I am confounded.”

“It could be,” Mike replied snidely, though he looked at his own hands in curiosity, “that in the face of a good man, evil withers.”

A sneer almost like a smile split Levi’s face. “You say it as though you are a good man, or as though men can be good at all.” Levi sat back again and crossed his legs over one another. “Besides, I am not convinced you are even a proper man. Perhaps a magical Indian elephant,” he mused, tapping his chin. “I have heard that they are quite large and possess remarkable noses.”

Mike narrowed his eyes. Erwin could see his jaw tighten with clenched, grinding teeth. “You would do well, snake,” he grumbled, “to learn to keep your forked tongue behind your teeth until given permission to speak.”

“Let me be very clear,” Erwin said, and although he was not shouting, his voice filled every nook and cranny of the room, and neither of the men dared to interrupt, “we are not enemies. And unless we work together, we can hope to get nothing done, and Salem is doomed.” Mike and Levi showed their agreement in their silence, and Erwin took the opportunity to press an issue he would have otherwise not dared to touch. “In fact, ideally, we should all become somewhat close and honest and protective of one another. And for that reason, I feel it makes sense for Levi to join the coven, or agree to meet with them at the very least.”

Mike was silent, but his eyes spoke louder than any words might have.

“No,” Levi said flatly, and Mike seemed somewhat relieved.

“For your own – ”

“I said no,” Levi dared to interrupt. He met Erwin’s hard stare, their eyes narrowed at each other, two predators waiting for the other to blink. The tension was thick and quick to fill the room, making even Mike squirm as they each waited for the other to back down. Hot and heavy air filled their swelling lungs and only lightened when at last Levi turned his head away with a frustrated “tch.”

“Do you not agree that safety can be found in numbers?”

“Fools are often found in numbers as well.” He still refused to meet Erwin’s eyes, opting instead to stare out the window into the dark night.

“I think, given the opportunity, you may find that the opposite is true,” Erwin replied, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Levi’s eyes were frozen on a fixed point in the trees. Though they had been narrow in anger and frustration only seconds before, now his expression turned to one of confusion and worry. His thin eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed. He stared intently out of the window until Erwin murmured his name, softly, carefully, as if not to startle him. His head snapped back to face the taller man.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said, thoughtfully.

A pleased smile began to tug at Erwin’s lips as he felt success pricking at him for the first time since he arrived in Salem, but Mike made a quick job of shutting it down. “No, no,” he interjected firmly. “The coven is a family. One cannot simply join a family.”

“Should I marry into it?” Levi asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“A middle ground would be adequate, I think,” Erwin piped up before Mike could take offense to Levi’s snide remark. “Joining would not be so much necessary as a closeness to facilitate communication and trust. Mike, where are the others?”

“Gone home, I am certain, unless they have chosen to wait.”

In that instant, the door swung open to reveal Nanaba, and four figures behind them in the dark. Their faces were all set, determined as though headed into a warzone. When their eyes fell on the seemingly calm scene around the table, as a collective they visibly relaxed.

“Mike,” Nanaba sighed, closing the door behind the company. “We were afraid something had happened.”

Levi stared at the party in the doorway with such contempt that Erwin thought his eyes might pop out of their sockets just to spite them all. It was comical, and Erwin couldn’t hold in his light, quiet laugh. He bit his lip in a more concentrated attempt when Levi turned that glare on him.

“No,” Mike reassured Nanaba, walking to the door. “In fact, we were just leaving.” Erwin shot a frustrated look at him, not intent on leaving at all.

A copper-topped head peeked over the shoulders of those taller than her and peered into the house. “We’re sorry for the intrusion… We were very concerned.”

Levi looked up to see Petra, and though he did not smile, his look softened and he nodded in acknowledgement. He seemed to relax overall, letting his shoulders fall and his back rest against the chair again.

“As you can see,” he said evenly, “your friends are in one piece.” He turned to Erwin again. “I’m sure you have more questions for me, and you are free to ask them. Tomorrow. We may all come together here, if you like. But for now, I need to sleep.”

Erwin pursed his lips, but finally nodded curtly. As he stood from his chair and joined the others by the door, he could feel Levi’s eyes on him, though when he turned to offer a farewell, he saw Levi again staring out the window, leaning and squinting as if searching for something.

Eld turned and opened the door and began to lead the troupe out, though just before his foot could cross the threshold he froze. Silently, he stared out into the darkness with a wrinkled brow. Finally, he stepped back and closed the door again.

“Eld?” Petra called gently.

“Something isn’t right,” he replied in a soft voice.

“That seems to be the general state of affairs in Salem,” Erwin replied, and to his surprise, he heard something like a snort from Levi and couldn’t help but wonder if it was a laugh.

Eld shot him a frustrated glance. “Something is outside,” he clarified. “Something is waiting for us.”

“Clever little hedge witch,” Levi murmured thoughtfully. “I’m sure you come in quite handy.”

“What is it?” Auruo asked, peering out the window into the endless darkness that stretched beyond the light cast from the window. He leaned and craned his neck, as if that could help him see farther.

Erwin looked to Mike. “I would be willing to bet my life that it’s related to the creature attacking the children.”

“But why isn’t it coming in?”

“It can’t,” Levi replied. “This house is armed to the teeth. Nothing without physical form crosses that threshold unless I allow it.” He stood and joined them in front of the door, nodding to said threshold proudly.

“But why is it here in the first place?” Petra asked, joining Auruo in looking outside. “I thought it only attacked children.” The gray cat followed behind her, tail swishing behind it. It jumped onto the windowsill and looked out as well, though its eyes seemed to find something, which it followed religiously with its head.

Mike shrugged. “Likely mistook Levi for a child. Not a hard mistake to make.” His chuckle was interrupted when a thick wooden shaft knocked against the back of his head with a loud thwack! He cried out, rubbing his head, and turned to see his assailant - a broom, standing upright by its tapered bristles. Mike stared at it, bewildered, until it finally dropped lifelessly to the ground again.

“Look not to me,” Levi murmured when Nanaba shot him a nasty glare. “It has a mind of its own.”

“Well, whatever’s out there,” Auruo finally said, his voice obnoxiously loud as if trying to put on some sort of bravado as he approached the door again, “Levi said it has no physical form. Therefore, I’m going home.”

“Auruo, _wait!_ ” Petra called, reaching out to him as he pushed the door open and stepped outside.

He took single step past the threshold and turned his head slightly to look at her. “It feels fine out here,” he asserted. “The shorty’s likely trying to trick us into st-” His words caught in his throat, his air flow cut. His breath came out in choking gasps, and he stumbled back as if something struck him in the chest then staggered forward as he tried to regain his footing.

“ _Auruo!_ ” Petra cried as they all rushed to the door. With a speed that should have been impossible given its weight, the door swung at them and slammed closed, rattling the walls and windows and sending dust crackling down into the fireplace.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I'm losing two betas for this (one is super busy with school and the other is going to Korea to teach! Yay!) and I would like to have more than one. If you're interested, hit me up?
> 
> And again, comments are always welcome, appreciated, loved, probably printed and framed on my wall...


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